Ever After
by Elle Blessingway
Summary: Besides his knowledge of her station and his intimate acquaintance with her fist, he learned that she smelled of fresh cut grass, sun-dried linens and spring flowers, and that she tasted sweet, like strawberries, everywhere.


**Title:** Ever After (1/1)  
**Author:** Elle, aka **elle_blessing**  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley  
**Rating:** Any Age  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Word Count:** 600  
**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is JKR's. No copyright infringement intended, and no money is being made.  
**Author's Notes:** This was written for my August 2010 Drabble Meme. Mala!**13oct** gave me the prompts of "Draco/Ginny" and "freshness". I must admit that 'freshness' stumped me for weeks. In the end, I got crackfic; it's a little earnest, a little sweet, and very silly. Considering I usually go with the angst-ridden Romeo & Juliet theme with these two, this was a nice exercise in lightening not only them, but myself. Thanks for the challenge, Mala, and I hope you enjoy!

**Summary:** Besides his knowledge of her station and his intimate acquaintance with her fist, he learned that she smelled of fresh cut grass, sun-dried linens and spring flowers, and that she tasted sweet, like strawberries, _everywhere_.

.

_**At first.**_

Children were oblivious of such things as class and politics. Perhaps that's why Draco kissed her. Class and politics definitely wasn't why she gave him a black eye though – that was for spitting on her lips. The twins had taught her well, after all. She was tiny and only seven, but such things as a proper right hook were important in her home.

Draco learned to throw a right hook as well. Ginny liked the black eyes better than the dreadful kisses.

_**And then.**_

They grew up, of course. They learned that Draco was rich and pure, and terribly rotten about most everything (especially getting his way, though Ginny was sure he'd always been like that), and that Ginny was poor (though pure, but the flaming ginger hair was the problem, Draco came to understand) and she was hot-tempered, and still liked practicing her right hook on him.

But then she also liked those kisses now. They made her hot all over, just like being irritated with him, but even _better_. Draco was rather pleased with these developments. Besides his knowledge of her station and his intimate acquaintance with her fist, he learned that she smelled of fresh cut grass, sun-dried linens and spring flowers, and that she tasted sweet, like strawberries, _everywhere_.

_**But now.**_

It was the way of things that when you were content and happy, that it wouldn't last, Draco had learned. Happiness was an illusion. The truth was He Who Must Not Be Named, and the evidence of such absolutism was etched painfully into his arm.

Her disgust was his reality. Fear, guilt, shame. These were the things that came to define him.

Ginny learned that she should have listened to her family, that tiny voice in the back of her mind that said Draco was no good (then again, Ginny ignored any voice which wasn't audible – Tom had made sure of that. Now _he_ had been no good.).

He hated himself, and she hated that he had betrayed what they could have been. It should have been different.

_**Then after.**_

It was, of course – different, that is. Voldemort was defeated and like when all megalomaniacs are destroyed, the world and life looked a little different after. Brighter. Things seemed possible. Impossible things.

Draco still regretted the choices he had made, and Ginny still knew that Draco was no good, but when they were Draco and Ginny, together all in one breath like that, he found forgiveness and hope, and she found that maybe he wasn't any good, but with her, he was just right, a better man.

_**And ever after.**_

Despite his family and her own, they made promises. There were rings and a ceremony, Ron glaring (Draco smirking) and Molly crying. Narcissa sniffed at everything with disdain (and got on famously with Fleur, of course) and Lucius wore a sour expression (though, when didn't he? Ginny had always been of the opinion that he must have something _very large_ shoved up his arse to cause such an expression). The twins made things explode.

All things considered, it was everything Draco and Ginny could have hoped for. Family and forever, sealed with a kiss that made Percy turn scarlet and sputter ("Well, I _never_."), and Pansy's lips curl in a pleased smile ("Never, Mr. Weasley? That can be remedied…"). If Draco groped at Ginny's arse on the altar for effect, it was studiously Not Spoken Of these days. One could only push Ron so far.

They had their ever after, much to their surprise (and pink-haired babies, much to everyone else's).

_**The End.**_


End file.
